Your Every Fantasy.

Where I'll be touching and holding caressing and giving you
Your every fantasy
I'll get you dreaming and lusting burning and praying
For more of this ecstasy.
'Come Here Boy', Imogen Heap

When Kouya wakes up, Yamato is still there, in her room, awake, looking at her and at outside the window. She has a moment of panic while she tries to remember if she locked her room after telling her parents Yamato was spending the night there. She has a moment of wonder as she notices the way the light from the lamppost shines over Yamato's profile and down one shoulder and how it half dresses her in shadow. She has a moment of missing her body against her and when she touches where Yamato laid, the sheets are cold

Their whole life is made of moments. Moments of stolen kisses and hurried touches and whispered 'I love you's and a moment of waking up alone without her ears and tail, just a note besides her telling her that Yamato had had to go, that she was loved.

That Yamato is still there makes her think that her chest hurts the way nothing else has ever done, the way nothing else can do.

"It's late," Kouya says, reaching for a shirt – Yamato's – and putting it to cover her. It's weird to be naked and talk, even if it's Yamato.

Yamato isn't ashamed of her nudeness and she keeps her eyes focused outside of the room for a moment before she turns towards her and despite the light suddenly shading her, Kouya knows Yamato is smiling.

"It's early. Past midnight."

It's been twenty four hours since they stopped being a team. Kouya still feels sick when she thinks about Nagisa-sensei, and every time she starts shuddering, she has hidden her face against Yamato's bosom as she trembles more times than she can count. Everytime Yamato holds her and her fingers move through her hair, and Yamato hums songs that Kouya doesn't recognize until she's not trembling anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

"Yeah. No. Well…" Yamato giggles and shakes her head. Kouya watches her stand up and move towards the bed, sitting over the edge and reaching a hand to touch her hair, her cheek, her nose; the way Yamato is looking at her makes her blush. "I was thinking."

That's why you can't sleep, Kouya almost teases but Yamato is still looking at her in that intense way, and it's taking most of her will not to squirm. She leans against Yamato's hand and closes her eyes, letting the warmth of Yamato surround her.

"We've got all our lives," Yamato answers to the silent question. She sounds awed, shocked. Then she rolls on top of her, pushing her down on the bed again and her breasts grace hers and Yamato settles over her hips warm and heavy and alive and there. "Kouya, Kouya. We got all our lives."

"I know," Kouya says and her breath catches because she does, she knows. Yamato is looking at her, her eyes fearful and happy and amazed and expectant.

"What are we going to do, Kouya?" Yamato asks and then she gives a tiny laugh, curling tighter over her body and resting her head against her chest. Kouya is sure she hears the thump-thump, thump-thump of her heart and the way her breath hitches because Yamato is breathing against her skin. "I never thought…"

"What?" Her hands feel weird. Huge and alien and they're trembling even before touching Yamato's back, moving up and down her skin and feeling the bumps of her spine. They're trembling almost as bad as when she has Yamato on her back, gasping and holding unto her tightly enough to bruise.

"That we'd have the chance," Yamato says, and she pushes up a little, breasts gracing and her hips snug against hers with only the blue sheet breaking them apart. "Kouya, what are we going to do?"

"I don't care," she says and then corrects herself when Yamato's eyes grow sad, "I care, I do… but not like that. I can figure it out; we can figure it out, that's not important. Yamato, we have all our lives. Our lives. Together."

She knows she's blushing but she keeps her eyes focused on Yamato's until Yamato smiles and then giggles, nuzzling against her neck. Kouya moves to her side and drags the covers back around them.

Kouya knows that tomorrow she'll worry again that Nagisa-sensei will come for them, and that she doesn't know what they can do with the rest of their suddenly own lifes. They're fifteen years old and they're together and that's everything that matters.

They no longer have just moments. They have forever.